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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207415">if i could take us back, if i could just do that...</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/safelikespringtime/pseuds/safelikespringtime'>safelikespringtime</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>--those last two are blink and you'll miss it but i wanted to put the warnings in just in case, Angst, Bisexual Sam Wilson, Blood, Captain America Sam Wilson, Character Death, Death, Flashbacks, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Racism, M/M, Pride Parades, SamBucky2020, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:34:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,443</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27207415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/safelikespringtime/pseuds/safelikespringtime</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.”<br/>Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.”<br/>Bucky laughed.<br/>“You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”</p><p>How right he was.</p><p>***</p><p>Sam dies. Bucky mourns.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>if i could take us back, if i could just do that...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written for SamBucky Month. The SamBucky2020 tag on twitter.<br/>Day 26.<br/>Prompt: Death</p><p> </p><p>NB: This flashes between two different time frames, it's fairly easy to follow, I think.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Red.<br/>Everything was red.<br/>Not red like a rose, nor the red of the fabric that made up Sam's suit. Not the red of the shield they shared many moments in battle. Not the red of the star that adorned his arm. Not the red ink of a pen used to reprimand him his actions. Nor the red of a stop sign.</p><p>No. No simplicity could describe this red.</p><p>This red was dark, and it spread wet and hot. This red coated his hands and painted the walls of his nightmares both waking and in a deep slumber. This red clawed at his throat and tainted his very being.</p><p>***</p><p>"Catch!" the echoed shout crackled over comms, giving Bucky just enough time to twist and catch the frisbee'd shield and turn, crunching it into the aliens skull with a grunt.</p><p>"We're supposed to be getting drunk and celebrating your bisexuality, can aliens not work on our schedule for once?" he grumbled, throwing the shield back towards Sam, ricocheting the metal off three aliens in its path before Sam caught it with ease.</p><p>"I think, no, I <em>know</em> the pride parade isn't just for my sexuality, Barnes." Bucky could hear the roll of Sam's eyes through the comms.</p><p>"I had your dick in my mouth this morning, you can't call me Barnes today," he responded with ease, returning his focus to the fight.</p><p>~</p><p>Red, white, and blue confetti floated down on them from the windows of apartment buildings they passed, cheers echoing through the crowds of people lining the streets, drinks and flags in hand as they moved along with the floats. Sam and Bucky stood on a particularly obnoxious rainbow float, complete with flashing lights and a balloon arch. Sam’s dressed in a custom made Captain America suit in the pink, purple, blue of the bi flag; and for as much as he had teased him for it when it had arrived, Sam looked incredible. Bucky’s heart stuttered in his chest.</p><p>He could remember the day Sam had gotten the invitation to be a part of the parade. It was a week after he’d come out publicly (in a rather heated discussion with an interviewer who’s main focus was on ‘how the public might perceive a <em>black</em> Captain America’ that ended abruptly after Sam responded none too politely with a “probably the same way they’ll percieve having a bisexual Captain America, fuck off”—to which Bucky had immediately kissed him for, live on camera). The letter had come in priority mail, on purple paper, penned in delightful calligraphy that made Bucky want to take it up himself.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>‘It is our great honour to invite you to stand a part of this year’s parade…’ </em> </strong>
</p><p>Okay so he couldn't remember what it said, but the way Sam had lit up at the very idea of it was etched in Bucky’s memory forever and now here they were. Sam standing proud and Bucky at his side shirtless, in a less-dressy pair of ripped black jeans with a rainbow flag draped around his neck.</p><p>~</p><p>“Stop, stop,” Sam giggled, <em>actually giggled</em>, leaning heavy on Bucky’s side as they stumbled their way towards the subway to head home deep into the early hours of the following morning. After the parade Sam had given a quick speech on love and equality, and how proud he was to represent their country as the person he was. After the speech, Bucky had dragged him off for some privacy, kissed him silly in a side street before they melted into the partying, succumbing to the drinks, music, and performances…Bucky couldn’t remember feeling so light.</p><p>He stopped walking, turning to face Sam, struggling a little to hold him up with his own intoxication and the drunken heaviness of Sam's own body. </p><p>“I know I’m drunk, but I mean this,” Sam breathed, forcing his eyes up to look at Bucky, who was doing his damned best not to scrunch his nose up at the stale smell of vodka that laced Sam’s breath. “I love you, Buck. So damn much. Like...it's unreal how much I love you, y’know. I know we’ve kinda not been labelling us, and I know we tell each other we love each other as friends all the time but I <em>love</em> you, James. This is the best day of my life, I swear.”</p><p>Bucky’s gaze turned soft, a fond warmth spreading through him, and he pressed a gentle kiss to Sam’s forehead, “I love you too, Sam. C’mon let's go home, we’ll talk about this more tomorrow.”</p><p>***</p><p>Bucky never had the issue of his fingers trembling, and especially not on his metal arm, but as he stands staring at his reflection in the mirror they begin to tremble. His face is red and splotchy, eyes burning from days on days of crying. His throat is so hoarse he’s not sure he’ll be able to say anything when the time comes for it. The white overhead light does nothing for the circles under his eyes, and the way it reflects off the tiles sends his brain spiralling back to the hospital for a moment. </p><p>Bucky takes a breath and tries to focus. He doesn’t look like himself. He’s not sure he is himself anymore. A piece of him taken the moment Sam was, replaced by the red that now washes over everything he is and everything he does. He’s not sure when the last time he looked in a mirror was, maybe before they left for the parade that day. </p><p>Definitely before they left for the parade that day.</p><p>***</p><p>“Stop fussing over me, I’m fine,” Sam swatted at him lightly, Bucky catching his hand and pressing a kiss to his palm.</p><p>“I’m not <em>fussing</em>, I’m trying to fix up your face, so you don’t scare all the baby gays at the parade today,” Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping Sam’s hand to wipe an alcohol swab over the cut on Sam’s cheek. “You're lucky Sharon isn’t here; she’d have made you go to the infirmary. Even luckier Rhodes looked worse off than you.”</p><p>“That man needs to retire,” Sam hummed.</p><p>“<em>I</em> need to retire,” Bucky countered, but couldn’t help but nod a little in agreement. Rhodes did need to retire. He had been pushing himself headfirst into his work ever since Tony’s death and while Bucky wasn't exactly the poster boy when it came to coping with one’s mental health, he knew that wasn’t good for him.</p><p>“Yeah? And when you do that are you gonna live on a pension or mooch off me for the rest of your life?” Sam teased, eyes flickering from Bucky’s fingers as they worked on the cut running up the side of his face to Bucky’s gaze, taking in the concentration in his expression.</p><p>Bucky rolled his eyes, fondness seeping into his words, “Oh mooch off of you, definitely. Can't let you think I’m any use without you around.”</p><p>Sam pulled Bucky in for a kiss once he was finished tending to his face, “M’kinda fond of you, y’know?”</p><p>“I know,” Bucky smiled into the kiss, unable to resist pulling Sam a little closer, indulging himself as he prolonged the kiss. He loved Sam more than he cared to admit some days, feared for him every time they headed out to deal with whatever shitshow the universe presented for them on any given day.</p><p>“Go get changed, I’m gonna shower,” he breathed, pulling away.</p><p>~</p><p>Bucky glanced at Sam in the reflection of the mirror, smiling as he shut off the hair dryer.</p><p>“I know I gave you shit for it…”</p><p>Sam cut him off, grinning smugly, “I look fucking good, admit it.”</p><p>“You look…” <em>Breathtaking. Stunning. Gorgeous. Exquisite. Beguiling. Divine. Heavenly. Fuckable. </em>“...the suit fits well,” he managed out, not daring to turn and face Sam properly.</p><p>“Yeah it does,” Sam’s grin widened, as he stepped up behind Bucky, reaching to take the brush from his hand, “Didn’t spend hours getting measured for it to not—let me braid your hair—they did really well. Might have to replace the original with these colours...just get it made with bulletproof fabric.”</p><p>Bucky smiled, stilling in Sam’s touch as he began to work rainbow ribbons into two braids down the back of Bucky’s head. He watched Sam as he worked in the reflection of the mirror, catching his gaze a few times with a silent smile, like a shared secret between them.</p><p>***</p><p>A scream rips through Bucky’s throat and he slams his fist into the mirror, letting out another cry as the shattering glass pierces into his skin. Whether from physical or emotional pain, he’s unsure. The red oozes at first from the wounds, before it comes out quicker as a particularly large shard tears through his knuckles.</p><p>A sob heaves in his chest and he turns on the tap, not sparing a second glance at the shattered mirror, watching instead as the water runs red, swirling into the drain. He waits for it to run clear before beginning to clean himself up, already hating the sympathetic looks he’s going to get at the memorial.</p><p>***</p><p>“You're a disgrace to America,” the call broke through their moment, stunning Bucky to silence just long enough for the shot to ring out.</p><p>He’s not sure where it came from, the street still filled with people making their way home from the festivities. But he knew where it went. Could feel the way Sam’s body lurched, the wheeze of air escaping his lungs. He froze momentarily, eyes locked on Sam’s as they faded a little, before the wet warmth of the blood soaked through the fabric, spreading red across his chest. </p><p>Then Sam’s legs gave out, and Bucky had to lower him to the ground, grasping at his back in search of an exit wound before his hands came around to the front, pressing against the bullet wound.</p><p>“Bucky,” Sam’s voice was quiet, laced with fear.</p><p>“Don't talk, don't talk,” Bucky shushed him quickly, unaware he was crying until a tear dripped onto Sam’s torso.</p><p>“Some call an ambulance!” he cried out, unaware if anyone had even stuck around after the gunshot, all his focus fixated on Sam’s trembling form. He pressed harder at the wound, where it sat, positioned to the left of Sam's upper torso. Right at the lung. And as Bucky listened he could hear Sam’s wheezing breaths getting wetter.</p><p>“Sam, look at me,” he urged quietly, forcing his eyes away from the blood that soaked the fabric and his hands, up to Sam's face. Sam’s gaze was distant.</p><p>“I love you, James,” he managed out, not quite meeting his eye. Bucky choked on a sob, feeling Sam’s fingers wrap around his forearm, grip weak, but firm. “Hey, I love you. You’re the strongest man I know.”</p><p>The words were coming out broken, interrupted by choked breaths, dots of blood lining his lips.</p><p>“I love you, Sam,” Bucky mumbled shakily, “You're stronger, you hear me? You’re gonna get through this.”</p><p>Bucky’s not sure if Sam heard those words, he’s not sure how long after he said them that Sam wheezed his last breath, but he knows that between that last breath and the paramedics arriving there was a total of twenty seven seconds.</p><p>***</p><p>Bucky presses his fists into his eyes until his vision goes spotty, heaving out a broken breath.</p><p>“Sam Wilson stood for everything that America should be,” he says slowly, words trembling. “He was kind, and loyal, he was unapologetically himself in every way possible. He fought for peace and freedom, always trying to find stable ground before it came to a fight. He gave everything but his life for this country, in the military he gave up his innocence, when he came back he gave up his time to help others, and then as the Falcon and afterwards under the Captain America name, fighting for peace, working towards a better world. He had the pleasure of being the face of this year's Pride festival here in New York, and I had the absolute honour of standing beside him there. He was so excited to be able to attend. And on the way home from the festivities, in a crowd of people who were just being unapologetically themselves he was killed in an act of hate. And now something that had been so anticipated leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, something he called the best day of his life is the worst day of mine.”</p><p>Bucky forces his gaze out at the crowd of people, he hated public speaking.</p><p>“If Sam was here he’d probably say some inspiring shit about how we need to become a world of acceptance. But I won't. Because I’m not Sam Wilson,” he wipes his eyes. “The world lost a hero...not just by label, but by being. The city council wanted to build a statue in his honour, but that's wasted money and I know Sam’s out there somewhere calling them all stupid politicians for even considering it.”</p><p>Bucky watches the people, dressed in suits and Captain America memorabilia, cameras and flags raised, and lets out a tired sigh, playing with the cards in his hand.</p><p>“I loved him, y’know?” he breathes, swerving from what he was supposed to be saying. “I loved him and the man who took him from the world, from <em>me</em> is still out there, walking free. So many people have said we’re lucky it was just one man, one shot. And yeah I guess we were. But we shouldn’t have even lost Sam. And for all I know the man who did it could be here today, standing alongside you.”</p><p>The words are heavy on his tongue and ache in his chest, and he shakes his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. He was so tired. So damn tired.</p><p>***</p><p>“You <em>hated</em> me, when we first met,” Bucky grinned, nosing into Sam's hair, holding him a little closer. “Now today we’re going to our first Pride Parade together.”</p><p>Sam traced small circles on Bucky’s chest, long lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones, “I didn’t hate you. I was scared of you.”</p><p>Bucky hummed, “I wasn’t that bad.”</p><p>“You were…but then again, you weren't really you,” Sam countered, “I thought I was gonna die to the hands of this hundred year old ghost all because of Steve Rogers and his cocky bullshit while running laps.”</p><p>Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my <em>wing</em>man.”</p><p>Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.”</p><p>Bucky laughed.</p><p>“You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”</p><p>***</p><p>How right he was.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry, feel free to come yell at me on twitter @ wintertorch</p><p>I was just doing what the prompt told me to do.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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